


Life (With You)

by Enk



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: 5 Things, Drunkenness, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-01
Updated: 2012-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-30 11:11:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enk/pseuds/Enk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four scars Hikaru Sulu remembers getting and one he doesn't</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life (With You)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [old_blueeyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/old_blueeyes/gifts).



**Five**

**  
**

It was an accident. Of course it was. No nine year old boy climbs a shed expecting to get himself nearly killed. Hikaru hadn’t thought about getting hurt at all. His mind had been focused on the best vantage point from which to watch the Flight Track graduating class show off their skills high above San Francisco Bay. While other kids his age dreamed of becoming Captains and Ambassadors, ever since Hikaru could remember, he knew he was going to fly.

 

To his defense, he hadn’t expected his first flight to be quite so short and resemble a fall more than an elegant maneuver. To this day, he wasn’t sure what had happened. One minute he had watched in awe as the shuttle crafts broke and renewed formation; the next he was on the ground, arm and head enveloped in pain. The broken bones in Hikaru’s arm healed faster than his pride, but small V-shaped scar which remained on Hikaru’s forearm became a constant reminder of the things he was going to accomplish.

 

**Four**

 

Hikaru Sulu was not clumsy. The simple fact that he went without major injury for well over a decade should speak volumes. He made it through Starfleet fucking Academy training without so much as a bruised lip. Flight track had few electives but Physical Education was mandatory for all tracks, only unlike command, they got choice. If he had the choice between everything else and wrestling on the floor with half of Command and Security in sweaty shorts and shirts, well, he was a little more elegant than that. Not that he didn’t know how to grapple or down a much larger opponent but he preferred to do so without much bodily contact. So far, it had been going well for him.

 

Until he met Jim Kirk.

 

The moment that man had walked onto the bridge of the Enterprise, Hikaru had felt himself swept up in a crazy adventure nothing in Starfleet could have prepared him for. There was no time to mourn fallen classmates, no time to crumble or fall or even pause. He remembered the drill, the fall, Jim, and hitting the transporter pad. Jim Kirk wasn’t the kind of friend Hikaru usually kept around for exactly those reasons.

 

They’d been banished back to their dorms for mandatory debriefings and final exams, but most of the Enterprise crew now hung out and studied together. For whatever reason, Jim had decided that he wanted to spend his time studying with Hikaru and Nyota rather than hitting the campus pub. It’s not like Hikaru minded. Jim was funny and oddly studious for someone he thought was trying to be the cock of the walk. So, they did all end up at the Blue Whale campus bar anyway. Starfleet's pride and joy, also home of real and very cheap alcoholic brew. Two and a half beers in, drinking became a bit of a competition. When asked the next day, Hikaru would insist that he didn't remember a thing. Though it was obvious that he did remember, at least until halfway into beer number eight, when Jim called it a draw and offered to walk Hikaru home.

 

That was something he was perfectly capable doing on his own, thank you very much. Until he needed a moment to re-adjust to the gravitational forces of the atmosphere, which he hadn’t left in weeks. Fuck, he was drunk; it didn't have to make sense. The walk home was as adventurous as any situation in which Jim I-Fall-Off-Cliffs-as-a-Sport Kirk decided that something was a bad idea. Two bags of frozen peas and a boatload of analgesics later, Hikaru would have been inclined to agree if he had remembered. Which he didn't.

 

The blotchy scar on his knee faded into white after a few weeks. Sometimes, Hikaru regretted not going to the clinic, but then he wouldn't have woken up to Jim Kirk sleeping splayed over the armchair in his room, snoring softly with his head tilted back and mouth gaping open. Maybe he was the kind of friend Hikaru should have around. He smiled and slid back under the blankets when the sun began to shine in his face. ****

**Three**

 

"I'm serious, Sulu." Jim speared a piece of broccoli with his fork. "I want you to teach me."

 

"That so?" Hikaru gave Jim a long look. He wasn't sure about handing Jim anything sharp and point, especially not something that self-assembled in the blink of an eye.

 

"Please?" The look Jim gave him was calculated parts of boyish charm and rejected puppy. Hikaru shook his head with a sigh. Probably wasn't a good idea agree, but resisting Jim when he set his mind to something was nearly impossible. One of his more obnoxious qualities, Hikaru noted.

 

"Fine, but if you stick yourself, I take no responsibility."

 

They met in the gym after Alpha shift. He had told Jim to wear comfortable clothes, but fuck, did he have to wear those distracting grey sweats that clung in all the right places? Hikaru shook his head and collected himself.

 

"Okay." Hikaru looked at the katana and bokken on the table to the side. "First, stance."

 

Jim paid attention, listened when Hikaru explained the different stances, and to Hikaru's surprise, asked pertinent questions. Jim also learned fast and it took a lot less time than Hikaru thought before he was convinced that Jim wouldn't kill himself with the bokken. He wasn't a natural and looked a little clumsy, and something about that was kind of endearing. In retrospect, Hikaru was convinced that standing that close to Jim had been the bad idea.

 

"Here," he stood behind Jim and adjusted his grip, "now twist a little to the left, like that." He put his hands on Jim's hips. "Keep your centre of gravity lower."

 

"Like that?" Jim adjusted and did his voice sound a little... off? "Yeah." He wasn't sure why his hands were still holding on to Jim's hips.

 

"Like that." He also wasn't sure why he was whispering into Jim's ear or why it was so important that Jim was leaning back against him. Hikaru wanted to correct him, instead of inhaling sharply; wanted to tell him to focus, instead of letting his thumb slip beneath Jim's shirt to caress his hipbone.

 

"Hikaru..." Jim's voice was rough. Something about that pulled Hikaru back to reality, made him move his hand and take a step back. Only, he hadn't realized that most of Jim's weight was leaning against him and that neither of them had secure footing. The crash into the table wasn't as painful as he expected. Needing to catch his katana blade first with his bare hand before it impaled itself into Jim's neck however was.

 

"Fuck." Hikaru panted. "You okay?"

 

"Yeah." Jim looked slightly dazed, but he shook himself out and sat up. "Better than your hand anyway."

 

"Ugh." Hikaru grimaced as he put the blade carefully back onto the table, pressing the small lever to sheath it. "Sickbay, I think." He would have glared at Jim, told him off. His annoyance lasted exactly as long as it took for Jim to smile at him and offer him his arm. "It's my hand, not my leg, asshole. I can walk." Hikaru couldn't help the grin. He also couldn't help taking Jim up on the offer of his arm. That was new. He'd worry about that once he was in Sickbay and probably blame it on the blood loss.

 

**Two**

 

Sex with Jim was awesome. Nonetheless, Hikaru should not have a crescent moon shaped scar on his left ass cheek. It was embarrassing. And of course, it was Jim's fault. Sort of. Okay maybe it wasn't Jim's fault that the ceremonial robes of Andor hugged him in all the right places, especially around the ass. Or that the ceremonial welcoming service in the temple had consisted of a series of low bows from a kneeling position. Or that Hikaru had been right behind Jim the whole time, watching his ass rather than paying attention to the ceremony.

 

So by the time the feast was over, Hikaru was so hard in his robes, he was glad he wore standard issue briefs that tucked everything away. Until it came time to bow after the feast. Then Hikaru cursed the painful pressure suddenly placed on his erection. And Jim stood there for a good long while chatting up the Chancellor on business, ceremony, and a potential bid to join the Federation. Hikaru was unimpressed. At least until they finally made it back to their planet-side living quarters and Jim shoved him into the door with a hungry, desperate kiss. Good to know Hikaru wasn't the only one who had been suffering.

 

Kissing Jim was so fucking good that Hikaru couldn't figure out why he hadn't done it sooner. He wanted to believe that it had started with the fencing lessons, but he'd been well gone by then, lost to James T. Kirk and his ridiculous smile. He didn't remember when kissing Jim became part of his routine, nor did he know when really awesome sex started to fit in there as well, but it did and he wasn't about to ask questions because Jim somehow opened the door and pushed them both inside. There wasn't much time for ceremony, if Jim was even remotely as hard as Hikaru, neither of them would last very long. He found lube tucked into the belt of Jim's robes (that sneaky bastard) and it's every kind of right when Jim finally thrust into Hikaru with a long groan.

 

The best kind of sex with Jim was messy, loud, and hard. Jim went with what feels good and most of the time, it hit all of Hikaru's kinks right- _oh fuck yes_ \- right there!  Sometimes that meant ending up on a glass table that creaked angrily until it shattered to a million pieces. And sometimes it meant threatening Jim if he dared to stop. It was the perfect mélange of pain and pleasure, and Hikaru's vision momentarily failed him when he came, dick touched only by the robes they were both still wearing. Jim followed moments later with a loud moan, panting against Hikaru's neck.

 

"Oh shit." He broke the silent afterglow Hikaru had basked in. "Don't move"

 

Of course, Hikaru had to move to look why Jim was torn between laughing and that concerned look he got when he was worried. Turned out, he didn't have to look. As soon as he moved, he could feel a shard of the table embedded in his ass and what felt like a half dozen of its smaller cousins joining the party in his back and shoulders. He knew he should be mad or worried or asking to go to sickbay, but instead Hikaru burst into a fit of giggles. What else was he supposed to do? Leonard's face would be priceless when Jim explained what had happened. He thought he almost had himself under control when Jim discretely asked for two to be beamed to sickbay.

 

Sex with Jim was fucking awesome.

 

**One**

 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” The expletives run through Hikaru’s mind like a mantra as he runs through the forest. The only thing he can hear aside from his own heartbeat is Pavel running beside him. He hates it when first contact goes shit up the creek with translation errors. He especially hates it when the error means that instead of _Captain Kirk has been invited to a diplomatic feast_ it is _Captain Kirk_ is _the diplomatic feast_.

Running is all that matters now. Running, running fast and hopefully get the fuck to the cave where Jim is chained and possibly drugged out of his mind awaiting to be eaten alive by who knows what kind of beast. Hikaru didn't ask when Nyota informed them of the error in the universal translator matrix. All that was important now condensed to katana, phaser, and speed.

 

The transport site was a good five kilometres from the cave entrance. No way to get closer, no chance for air support, no possibility to just beam Jim the fuck out of there. It was down to the fastest runners on the Enterprise to race against time to hopefully arrive before something began to feast on Jim's innards. Five K, that's a distance Hikaru runs in 14 minutes on the track in the rec area of the ship. Flat track. Not up the side of a slope that didn't promise to get any better.  So, he and Pavel beamed down and started just started running. What else could they do? Nyota's voice is in their ear pieces telling them when to turn, what obstacles to expect.

After the first couple of kilometres, Hikaru tunes Nyota out, just responds to the big commands like 'sharp right' or 'water ahead'. He knows she feels helpless staying back on the bridge, but he's on uneven ground, literally and figuratively. Every pace, the bush thickens, slows them down. He doesn't need to spur himself on, doesn't need to be urged by a disembodied voice. The image of Jim chained against barren rock in front of a cave that houses a flesh eating beast is all that he needs. If he could only push just a little harder, go just a little faster-

 

"Stop, Hikaru, stop!!!"

 

He only gets the tail end of Nyota's shouts when Pavel grabs him by the arm and jerks him back. Hikaru stumbles and comes to a halt no more than a hand's breadth from the edge of a steep cliff.

 

"Shit." He finally gets out when his lungs and heart don't feel like bursting anymore. Thoughts race through his bran and some small, buried part in him wants to scream, wants to cry and despair but when he looks over the edge, something settles him down. He takes a deep breath and looks at Pavel.

 

"Ready?" He doesn't have to explain. Pavel knows him well enough to understand.

 

"Yeah." That's the thing about Pavel. Everyone underestimates how big that guy's balls actually are.

 

They don't gauge the depth, too hard to tell from their vantage point. Nyota is talking about a small path only a few hundred metres from them that leads down, but even three metres is too far for Hikaru's tastes. They jump at the same time. Hikaru thinks he can hear Nyota scream as he ear piece dislodges when he hits the water. It’s like a punch in the gut. Turbid water takes his sight, disorients him. He can barely see the bubbles of air that escape his nose and mouth, but when he does, he follows them and breaks the surface with a gasping breath.

"All right?!" Pavel shouts from the shore. Hikaru gives him the thumbs up. He knows he lost his phaser but his katana is still safely strapped to his back.

 

"Almost there." Hikaru peels himself down to his sleeveless black undershirt and fastens the the katana back around. He'll be bug bitten and sunburnt by the end of it but that is the least of their worries. They have a Captain to rescue. And just like that, the doubts in his mind calm down, settle, and finally vanish like he's left them at the top of the cliff all along. Maybe that's why Jim had such a love affair with throwing himself off high places. They press on and suddenly, the forest opens in front of them without notice.

 

A beautiful meadow lies before them, rich in blossoming flora, colourful birds and insects and any other time, it would have been a Botanist's wet dream if it weren't for the blood stained rock slab in front of the opening of a cave at the other end of the meadow. Blood-stained. No sight of Jim. Hikaru abandons protocol and the idea of cover. Every part, every cell of him needs to get to that rock slab, needs to know. Someone shouts Jim's name, and when he sees the look on Pavel's face he knows it's his own voice. He doesn't care. It can't end like this. Not with a bloody slab of damned rock in the middle of a fucking meadow on a god forsaken planet no one's ever heard of. Not when Hikaru's not ready. Not with all the shit they haven't said.

 

"-karu?" The voice is faint, hoarse, from the other side of the slab.

 

"Jim?!"

 

"You're late." Jim smiles, blood-matted hair, eye swollen shut, bruises blooming all over his body and still, he fucking smiles. He's tangled in a chain. Hikaru can tell his shoulder is dislocated from an attempt to Houdini his way out of them. Fighting to the last breath, that's the Jim he knew. That's the Jim he-

 

"Let's hurry up!" Pavel interjects their reunion with a laser scalpel he pulled out of his pocket.

 

In hindsight, it was too easy: Pavel cutting Jim from his shackles; Jim finding the strength to get up on his own. That smile, the unashamed kiss Hikaru gets to claim as a reward for Jim holding still while they set his shoulder. He doesn't expect all the colour to drain from Jim's face suddenly. He also doesn't expect to wake up in sickbay when he opens his eyes again.

 

Jim tells him he fought heroically. Pavel says it was like a madman, like fugue had taken over after the stinger of a giant insect beast pierced right below his heart. Blood loss, fugue, adrenaline, it doesn't matter. Hikaru doesn't remember a thing. He does ask Leonard to leave the scar below his heart. If he can't remember his heroics, he should at least get to keep the badge.

               


End file.
